Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing X-101 to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Swell Maps,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Near,
Yellowson,
the Association,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
These Immortal Souls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dark Day,
Rotary Connection,
Yusef Lateef,
Toni Rubio,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Eurythmics,
CMW,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fear,
Jawbox,
Henry Cow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bluetip,
The Real Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
Warsaw,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Easy Going,
Section 25,
Funky Four + One,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
The Standells,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pantytec,
The Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Youth Brigade,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
Pere Ubu,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.